Virginia is depressed.
After graduating at the top of her class at the Raymondo Dior School of Fashion in Topeka, Kansas, Virginia took the inheritance from her grandmother, borrowed some money from her parents and took her dreams and designs to Kansas City to break into the big-time fashion world. She prayed about her fashion future, and felt with money and God behind her, success would be in front of her.
Virginia’s business plan partly depended on her knowledge that a lot of Americans were Christians, and Satan was spreading a great deal of mental illness around to try and destroy them. Vowing to use her design gifts for a higher purpose, Virginia prayed some more, and was rewarded with divine inspiration–swaddling clothes. A voice came to her in the night and said “Virginia, make some swaddling clothes.”
When Virginia arrived in Kansas City, she rented a small studio and set about creating a line of swaddling clothes she was sure the country would embrace. Of course, she began with baby swaddling clothes because swaddling babies was a Biblical tradition. What better indorsement could swaddling clothes have than Jesus himself? Virginia worked day and night sketching her visions of modern swaddles. She produced styles such as Punk, hip-hop, redneck, and neo-Arabic. However, Virginia didn’t limit herself to baby swaddles; she decided to bring swaddles into haute couture. Gold lame, silk, velvet, linen, seersucker and cheap polyester were but a few of the materials she stitched and sewed, puckered and hemmed in an effort to create new, young, hip, new-testament fashion for a modern world.
Since the word “swaddling” also means “to restrict.” Virginia decided to broaden her chances of success and started a line of institutional swaddles to replace straightjackets. The rise in Satan-caused mental illness had increased the demand for restrictive garments for lunatics, and Virginia felt being embraced by a terrycloth swaddle would have a more calming effect on the insane and make it easier for them to find Jesus.
After months of preparation, Virginia opened a store in the Big Corn Shopping Mall and hired a sales manager named Sammy Dandy to handle the institutional part of the business. She named her store “Swaddles” and took out ads in the Kansas City Star to promote the grand opening.
That was three months ago. Since that time, she has only sold two baby-swaddling outfits and one swaddling chemise (which went to an S&M transvestite). The institutional line fared worse. On his first—and last—sales call, Sammy Dandy was demonstrating the terrycloth, lunatic swaddle when he was viciously attacked by a schizophrenic patient named Mr. Cheese and had his ear bitten off. Mr. Cheese thought Sammy was Satan.
So, Virginia is depressed. She knows she is going to have to close her store and pack her dreams; but she knows there is hope. The other night, the same voice came to her and said, “Swimming suits for dogs.”